


A Single Event

by TiedyedTrickster



Series: Geta!verse [31]
Category: DBZ - Fandom, Dragon Ball
Genre: ...I honestly don't know what to tag this - suggestions welcome, Gen, Negotiations, Space Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 15:24:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiedyedTrickster/pseuds/TiedyedTrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty-four years ago a single event changed and history broke and reformed into a very different time line. Now that story’s drawing to a close and, as the saiyans negotiate for the right to claim a new home world, the question still remains: what caused all this in the first place?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Single Event

**Author's Note:**

> Set three years after the Resistance defeats Frieza, eight years after Chichi and Kakarrot run off to join the Resistance, and eleven years since Bulma and Geta first ran into each other in the jungle.

“I’d like to renegotiate our treaty.”

The saiyan commander Bardock stood before the Counsel of Planets, whose role it was to organize trade, law, and such in this section of the universe, arms folded, expression serious.

“Oh? In what way?” the brown-furred Nezmi representative and head of the council asked coolly.

“With the Colds and the Planet Trade destroyed, the Resistance has finally achieved its goal,” Bardock responded calmly, “Now it’s time for us to focus on rebuilding our population and culture, and we want to find a home world to do it on. We’ve waited the minimum required time stated in the treaty, and we’re ready.”

This brought a wave of muttering amongst the council members. Many races had only tolerated the saiyans’ continued existence over the past twenty-four years only because they had been working to destroy a worse threat. Now that threat was gone, and having a world of their own would give the saiyans resources and stability they previously lacked, increasing their already impressive power even moreso.

“So that’s how it is,” the Narapoian representative snapped, “You’ve destroyed the only ones who could stop you, and now you’re demanding we hand over whatever lush world you desire as compensation!”

The scarred saiyan raised an eyebrow. “First, I’m pretty sure your concept of an ideal planet is very different from a saiyan’s – we’re a desert-dwelling race in case you’d forgotten. Next, you all seemed _more_ than happy to stand back and let us do as we liked when it came to destroying the Colds and their Empire. Finally, you all know what I am capable of, and what those within my command are capable of – if we planned to claim a planet by force, I wouldn’t be talking to you, we’d have already done it. Trust me,” he smirked, “I’m working within the boundaries of the treaty we made back at the beginning of this mess – it did, after all, state that we could claim a home world if it was uninhabited and no one else owned it.”

“And if you proved you could be trusted!” the Narapoian representative snapped, “That you won’t revert to type once you grow bored with peace!”

“Don’t worry, I remember the ‘prove you’re not born evil’ part of the deal,” as opposed to getting angry at the slight, Bardock’s grin grew wider, “Well it just so happens that we stumbled across just such a piece of proof a few years back.”

The representatives from over fifty of planets and clusters stared as the scarred saiyan waved another figure into the room.

He was clad in loose grey pants and a sleeveless navy shirt of small armor, a length of royal blue cloth gathered around his waist by a golden belt, and white boots with golden toes. His expression was unfamiliar, but the features that formed it were not.

Bardock looked incredibly smug. “May I present to you-”

_“Vegeta, lost prince of the saiyans, son of Vegeta, king of all saiyans.”_

Bardock gave the Kanaa representative a withering look for stealing his thunder but rallied well and went on to explain about Vegeta’s survival and loss of memory, and the result of a saiyan who had grown up with no knowledge of who or what he was.

The Kanaa representative, Toolo, listened with half an earbud. He had heard this before, in a vision one of his fellow Kanaas had had and shared, since it pertained to him. It was still always interesting to actually experience foreseen events, though – they tended to be so much more vivid than the visions, and there were often small details that you missed if you weren’t actually there, such as the way the saiyan prince was shifting from foot to foot as if his shoes discomforted him in some manner (most odd).

As it was, he was here to provide verification, to use his abilities to read the lost prince’s mind and confirm that the saiyan commander spoke the truth. The people of Kanassa were known for both their psychic powers and their great sense of honour, after all. Also for repelling multiple attempts to purge their planet (all things people tended to be impressed by).

Toolo observed Vegeta as Bardock spoke. The prince had grown into a decent enough young man, he supposed – it was always a little hard to tell with the mammalian types, but he appeared healthy enough. Body language was easier to read, especially for a telepath. The man shifted from foot to foot again, trying to tug surreptitiously at the collar of his shirt – out of his element and in unfamiliar clothes and (the barest touch to his surface thoughts) _uncomfortable around so many strangers, no trees/plants/creatures friends/family/kin, homesick…_

Interesting.

“How do we know what you say is truth, though?” the Greconss representative asked mildly, unaware of Toolo’s thoughts, “You say you found him years ago – how do we know you haven’t been grooming him for this very moment, planning to fool us all with a show of false humility and passive behavior?”

Bardock stared at the representative for a moment, then pinched his brow in a gesture meant to look pained, but which in reality, Toolo noted, was masking the urge to laugh in the representative’s face. “I think those of you who encountered his highness prior to his presumed death know just how likely that suggestion is. But you are right about one thing – I don’t expect you to take this on my word alone,” oh and that _was_ a heavy cloud of bitterness tinging his words, “Which is why Prince Vegeta has agreed to allow himself to be mentally scanned and to submit to a medical evaluation.”

“So far we have only heard you speak on this matter,” the Glauton representative called out, adjusting his bulk as he did so, “What does this so-called ‘lost prince’ have to say on the matter?”

There were words of agreement from the other members and, after glancing at Bardock for approval, the flame-haired man stepped forward, clearing his throat a little nervously. “I’m Ge- Vegeta, and what Commander Bardock said was a pretty accurate description of how I grew up. Though, um,” he plucked at the cloth around his waist, “The outfit’s a little different than what I’m used to.”

“Then those are not the clothes of what you consider your homeworld?” the Fishonista representative asked, a combination of curious and unsurprised – after all, it was highly improbable that the clothing of some backwater would have so closely paralleled a style favoured by normal saiyans in recent years.

“Nah, Bar- er, Commander Bardock said he wanted me to look presentable, not like some backwater hick,” the prince grinned ruefully and received a few chuckles before the uncomfortable expression returned to his face, “Look, I- I don’t really not what you want me to say? I’m not very good with public speaking, so, ah, maybe if you all just asked me what you want to know…?”

“This planet you live on, has it a moon?” the Nezmi representative spoke up again, her gaze sharp.

“Yes, it does,” Vegeta nodded.

“And how often is it full?”

“Once a month by our calendar, approximately. Commander Bardock says that’s equal to once every two Wargden months,” Vegeta answered, looking pleased at being able to respond accurately.

There were shocked murmurings at this, though the Nezmi representative appeared unphased. “Then you lost your tail as a child or had it taken from you.”

“Oh no, I’ve still got it,” there was a rustling from the drape at his waist, then the back lifted slightly as Vegeta held his tail up for the assembly to see before returning it to its former position.

“You hid it!” the Narapoian representative snarled, “Are you trying to come off as harmless, lull us into a false sense of security?”

The prince blinked at this, surprised. “If you’re asking why my tail’s wrapped, it’s because I’m nervous – I always wrap it when I’m nervous. Usually it’s still visible, though.” He fiddled with his blue drape again.

“And why are you nervous?” the Greconss representative asked.

“…I reeeeally don’t like public speaking. Or crowds. Or strangers. Or leaving my home town,” the young man answered honestly, “I’ve been assured by many people that I am all kinds of socially awkward.”

“How is it the population of your ‘homeworld’ survives if you retain your tail and its moon is so often full?” the Nezmi representative pressed, returning to the original matter.

“The brain damage I received as a child effected my Oozaru form,” Vegeta answered, looking relieved to be back on topics he had probably been warned he would have to discuss, “I maintain conscious awareness in it, but it doesn’t increase my aggression or desire to fight like it does with other saiyans. Mostly I’m just stronger and too big to do anything.”

“Have your injuries left any other noticeable side effects?” the Fishonista representative inquired.

“I’m told I tend to shift between moods pretty abruptly, especially good and bad ones,” Vegeta scratched his head, “Not mood swings, more like, when I stop being upset or whatever I just _stop_? Oh, and there’s the amnesia thing, but that was just forgetting my entire life before waking up on Earth, minor detail, barely worth mentioning.”

Some more chuckles greeted this, and Toolo allowed his eyes to widen slightly – the Kanaa version of a smile.

“How long have you known of your heritage?” the Glauton representative asked.

“About ten years.”

“So, now you will reclaim your kingdom?”

There was silence for a moment as everyone waited for the prince’s answer. The saiyan in question stared straight ahead for a moment. Then he snorted. Then he started to laugh.

It was moments like these that made knowing how events would unfold before they did really _satisfying_ Toolo reflected as he watched the rest of the council stare at the prince in a range of confusion to stunned horror. You got to watch and be amused rather than make an idiot of yourself over trivialities. After a moment Vegeta straightened, wiping his eyes (mammalian anatomy was truly odd) and smiling, “I- sorry, no disrespect, it’s just,” he paused to snicker to himself again, “Me? In charge of _anyone_? That would go _so_ badly, I’d be a crap ruler.”

“Then why are you here?” the Nezmi representative asked.

“Commander Bardock asked me to come,” Vegeta replied, growing somewhat more serious, “He told me what he wanted to do here and that I could help. So here I am. Afterwards I’ll go home again.”

“A saiyan prince give up his right to the throne?! A likely story!” the Narapoian representative sneered.

For the first time since his appearance before them, Vegeta scowled and folded his arms and, oh, yes, if anyone had had doubts as to his relation to King Vegeta, this dismissed them; the young man looked so very like his father. It also made his next words all the more amusing. “Look, the whole prince thing isn’t actually my fault!”

“Enough,” the Nezmi representative stood, “You seem to be telling the truth, but let us put it to the true test. If he will, let the Kanaa representative Toolo discern the honesty of your thoughts.”

All eyes but Vegeta’s turned to Toolo. The flame-haired man glanced at Bardock, then followed the older saiyan’s gaze to find Toolo, who nodded. _‘I will do this thing.’_

“Can we trust _him_ to be honest, though?” the Narapoian representative demanded, “You Kanaas only show up to these meetings when it suits you!”

“And you Narapoians suspect everyone is up to something,” the Canvul representative stated calmly, speaking for the first time, “Of all known races with such abilities, the people of Kanassa have shown themselves the most honourable in using them, and yours is the only race who so completely distrusts them.”

“No race is without blemish,” the Narapoian spat.

“And no race is without merit,” the Canvul countered, “Even the saiyans, as we have learned.”

“You would defend them?!?”

The Canvul gave a warning look. “Theirs was not the first race to experience a bloody birth into the wider universe – at least half of all of us here have histories stained with violence, directed either inward or outward. But we have had the time to wash the blood from our hands, and grown superior in doing so.”

“Excuse me?” the attention turned to Bardock as he stepped forward, “I’m not going to apologize for my race or our actions – I’ve already done that, I’m not doing it again. I will say this, though:

“Yes, we’re warriors – it’s in our blood, that’s not going to change. But we’re proving we can play this civilization game as well as any of you. The Aneshi have benefitted from their alliance with us, as have the Silvorn, and a dozen other planets. The Planet Trade has been gone for two years, and we still honour the bargains we made while we were fighting them. That’s what I’m doing now – offering you this final piece of evidence you’ve asked for and asking that you make good on your end of the deal. Let us find a homeworld and we’ll happily let some other race take the universe’s attention – we’ve had enough of it, thanks all the same!”

Bardock’s tail was wrapped unmoving around his waist, but Toolo could feel his desire to lash it. _‘Then let the lost prince approach me and we will end this.’_

The room silenced, and Vegeta walked over to stand before him. The Kanaa stood as well, placing a single finger on the saiyan’s forehead. The touch was for show, Kanaas did not require physical contact to initiate mental contact, unlike the Canvul. However they had quickly discovered that such gestures tended to make non-psychic races more comfortable for some reason.

The saiyan’s surface thoughts were mostly for his race/friends/family/BulmaBulmaBulma, being of use, glad to help, readytogohomenownownownownow… Beneath these, in the more subliminal parts of the mind, lay a great deal of fear in regards to the current environment, stemming from the lack of plant life and the large number of strangers (shyshyshy). Deeper lay the memories and, below them, the true subconscious and core self, where identity lay, and in that core-

-a saiyan man, sitting in a tree, looking out over his jungle/territory/home and laughing, content.

Toolo withdrew as carefully as he had entered and nodded to the general assembly. _‘Commander Bardock speaks the truth – the saiyan race is capable of more than warfare, and this man is the proof of it. The planet Kanassa votes to allow the saiyans to seek a new homeworld, as long as they abide by the terms of the treaty in doing so.’_ And he returned to his seat

The debate lasted awhile longer, ad further questions and tests were run, but when the vote was cast, it was in favour of the saiyans. It was an interesting thing, Toolo mused, to take satisfaction in the success of a man who, had things occurred differently, would have murdered him after leading the assault that finally obliterated the Kanaa race. He sat back in his seat, musing on that fateful gathering of his peoples’ leaders so many years ago…

The moon on Kanassa only fully showed its face twice a year, and it was just beginning to wane when the vision had come en masse. With the next full moon would come the saiyans, and with them would come the death of the Kanaas. The governing council had gathered to delve into the possible paths the future could take, for visions showed only the most likely outcomes, what would happen if nothing changed. But for once the future had seemed all too certain – no matter what alternatives were suggested, Kanassa died the next full moon. Over and over before their eyes, their race died.

 _‘Mucky-scaled tyrant,_ ’ Demetrius had grumbled, _‘He doesn’t even like the saiyans that much. It’s a shame we could not turn master and servant upon one another.’_

 _‘And how would we do that?’_ Tunal had asked, uncharacteristically biting.

And, just like that, the new vision had come, a faint possibility that likely hinged upon Demetrius or Tunal speaking or staying silent. The solution was so simple, too. A joining of minds to generate the necessary power, a small idea sent across light years of space, and suddenly Frieza hit upon a concept that would allow him to keep his brutal pets without having to fear them. He simply had to break their spirits  by destroying one of the things they held most dear.

Their crown prince.

And if it looked like an accident, or like the boy had run, thus breaking the treaty, it would leave Frieza in a position of strength, free to do whatever he liked.

It was unlikely that Frieza had ever known the saiyans already possessed a relatively rudimentary telepathy of their own, or else he would likely have been a little more careful. After all, anyone who knew anything about psychic powers knew that they required a strong mind in order to be effective, and that ignorance and/or a lack of interest in intellectual pursuits did not negate a being’s potential to become skilled at them. Thus instead of breaking the saiyans, Freiza’s actions had aroused their suspicions as to their ‘generous employer’s’ true intents, had spurred them to begin to think instead of simply act. As a result, the Kanaas had survived and, curiously enough, so had the saiyans. And the greater evil, the Planet Trade, had been snuffed out.

Really, Toolo thought as he watched the saiyans leave, Bardock crowing on the inside, Vegeta just glad to be going, everything had worked out for the best. And it was fortunate that the Narapoian representative was wrong about the Kanaas having any interest in playing puppet masters with the rest of the universe. Even though they would probably have been good at it, dealing with the future of their _own_ race was already a task and a half. Dealing with the fate of hundreds of worlds on a day to day basis? Toolo widened his eyes, laughing to himself.

Honestly, it wouldn’t be worth the headache.

**Author's Note:**

> See? It’s like I said – it’s not Geta who began everything. It was that race of stupidly powerful psychics, who survived in this universe because, oh yes, Bardock never actually went to Kanassa in this universe, something I mentioned in the notes of Found. Surprise, that was actually relevant! 8D (laughs) Seriously, though, I didn’t find this out myself until I was deep into the series – it really is one of the last things I wrote. ;)
> 
> I got the Kanaa names from the DBZ wiki for the most part, all the other representatives mentioned are species that I made up, and they’re all puns or jokes or anagrams of some sort – can you figure them all out? ;)
> 
> (sighs) And, well, that’s just about it – this is the penultimate segment of Geta!verse – next week’s the last installment. I might return to this universe one day to do some short sequel segments involving the next generation, but for the most part the fic is done. A handful of loose ends to tie off, and that’s it. You know how it all began now, so, really, there’s only one thing left to find out:
> 
> How it ends.


End file.
